


The Colour of Decay

by Lucifuge5



Series: Zombie!verse [1]
Category: Durham County, due South
Genre: Angst, M/M, Slash, apocalyptic, zombie!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-15
Updated: 2010-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-06 07:58:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifuge5/pseuds/Lucifuge5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Ray's eyes had a wild, panicky look to them that gave Mike goose bumps.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Colour of Decay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [akamine_chan and Sionnain](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=akamine_chan+and+Sionnain).



> Written for MORE JOY DAY 2010 during my lunch hour. Unbetaed (eeep!) but made with love. :)

Mike was standing with his back towards the bathroom mirror. He should have already begun shaving since his shift was starting in about an hour. Instead, he kept staring, head twisted til his chin touched his left shoulder, at the dark purple bruises on his back. Keeping a little girl, who carried the Z virus but wasn't infected, from being torn to pieces by a crazy mob brought a heavy price paid in baseball bats and angry punches.

He turned all the way around and began to spread the shaving foam on his face. Safety razor in hand—so unlike the _other_ Canadian—he let his mind go blank, the better to keep himself from getting too many nicks.

There was a sudden thump followed by the sound of keys jiggling and a non-stop "fucking open **now**!" from behind the front door. Mike wiped his face with a towel. Whatever it was, Ray was in a hurry.

"What's up?"

Ray's eyes had a wild, panicky look to them that gave Mike goose bumps.

"There was a report of about 20 waddlers (Ray had been contrarian to the point of calling them waddlers or amblers, anything really as long as it didn't start with the letter _Z_) crossing North Franklin Street and going East. That's, like, twelve, maybe ten blocks away from the Consulate!" He got to their bedroom in less than three steps. "I bet you dollars to peanuts that Mr. Stubborn-as-an-Inuvik-Mule-Fraser is going to try to stay put and defend the Dominion or some such shit. I can't get through the phone so—" he started to open the drawers in the cabinet.

Mike wanted to move, but the sudden realization that Ray was running to Fraser _without_ Fraser even having to ask for him really stung. He had a sudden flash to the beginning of this thing he had with Ray. When he'd asked him about Fraser, Ray had given him a sideways smile and had just said, "It's complicated." Mike let it be even though that partnership or whatever you want to call it gnawed at him whenever Ray spent his nights somewhere else.

Ray came back to living room, a black duffel bag on his shoulder. "Gotta go to the Consulate and then the _real_ Canada . . . ." He stopped and gave Mike an annoyed face. "The hell are you doing?"

Caught unawares, Mike blinked. "I—"

Ray rolled his shoulders. "You're coming _with_, okay? We'll pick Fraser up and head as far North as we can. Even if we have to walk to the border." He was by the door when he faced Mike once again. "Don't forget your ammo. Let's go, let's go . . . !"

Mike could hear the fading echo of Ray's "Let's go" followed by the clump-clump-clump of his motorcycle boots. He opened his gun locker and began to pack.


End file.
